


A Pain That He's Used To

by weaselett



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaselett/pseuds/weaselett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rossi knows exactly what Hotch needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pain That He's Used To

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Criminal Minds Kink Meme IV - Prompt: Hotch/Rossi Hotch is a pain!whore, he needs pain to know he's alive. Rossi is the only one he trusts. Bonus point if Hotch and Rossi have been at it since Hotch joined the BAU.

If he’d paid any one of his wives the attention he pays Aaron, they never would have divorced him. He’s spent more time, and money, on finding new ways to give Aaron what he needs then he really wants to think about.

He knows it’s worth the effort, because every time he gets Aaron to that place, Aaron thanks him. And every time Aaron shows him how much he appreciates the effort, Dave can’t help want to make the effort.

He can remember how this whole thing started, one night in a tiny hotel in North Dakota, can remember his own panic at the sight of blood on the tiled floor of the bathroom. He’d honestly thought that the kid had ended it, he wouldn’t have been the first, but he hadn’t.

He can remember, vividly, the sight of Aaron’s bloody thighs, each of the three straight cuts made in just the right place to avoid anything important while still guaranteeing as much pain as possible. Aaron’s hands hadn’t been shaking as he drew the blade across his thigh, so lost in his work that he hadn’t noticed Dave’s entrance. Dave had never been turned on by the sight of blood, still wasn’t, but the sight of Aaron, so focused on his task, had made his trousers uncomfortably tight.

It had taken him a moment to force himself to move away, backing out of the bathroom and hoping that Aaron hadn’t seen him. He’d known the other man well enough, even then, to know that he wouldn’t have taken being caught well.

Aaron’s hand shakes now, his grip faltering before the blade is even within an inch of his skin. He’s sitting on the rim of his bath, the position almost a perfect echo of the first time Dave had caught him doing this to himself, only this time he isn’t wearing the remains of a suit.

Dave isn’t turned on now, as he pushes the door open a little wider, careful not to make Aaron jump. He isn’t supposed to be here, Aaron had made that much clear after he’d been discharged from the hospital and again, after the funeral, but Dave isn’t going to let this go on. He’s been watching, he always has been, ever since that first time.

The only problem is, the Aaron of the present doesn’t seem to be able to find the release that the Aaron of the past had always seemed to find so easily. It’s been months since Dave has seen those little flinches, the ones that are always followed by a glimpse of the purest expression of relief.

There was a time, between North Dakota and his retirement, that Aaron had known to come to him for what he needed, but he hasn’t done that for a long time now. Dave wonders if Haley had filled that role afterwards, before the divorce, but it’s not his place, or the time, to be asking questions like that.

“Aaron,” he keeps his voice low, and his hands clearly visible, as he crosses from the doorway to Aaron’s side. The last thing he wants to do is startle Aaron.

“You shouldn’t be here,” there’s no emotion behind the words, just the same blankness that he sees in Aaron far too often these days.

“I’m not going anywhere Aaron,” there’s just enough room for him to perch alongside the other man, his thigh resting against Aaron’s knee. The scars on Aaron’s legs are clearly visible, but they’re all old, older than the scar that is just about visible above the neck line of the t-shirt Aaron’s wearing.

He waits, giving Aaron time to say something, anything, in response, but the only answer he gets is silence. Aaron just sits there, knife in one hand, unmoving. It’s an entirely different kind of stillness than Aaron usually employs, and a whole lot more disturbing.

-

Dave reaches out and pulls the knife from Aaron’s hand, flicking it shut carefully. It’s the same one Dave remembers from before, he recognises the weight of it, and each of the little dents in the hilt. It’s more worn now though, and there are spots of dried blood, some old, some new. He swallows hard, he isn’t going to think about what that means, “You don’t need this anymore.”

Aaron slumps a little, sighing softly and closing his eyes, the picture of defeat, “I can’t _use_ it anymore anyway.”

Dave takes a moment to push back the anger at those words, Foyet’s dead and gone but the lists of things that he took away from Aaron just seems to keep getting longer. Dave isn’t about to let Foyet win, not after everything. He can’t bring Haley back, but he can sure as hell do everything in his power to help Aaron regain everything else on that list.

And he knows exactly what he needs to do to help Aaron with this particular problem. There had been a time, after all, when the knife hadn’t been needed.

Dave reaches out, wrapping a hand around Aaron’s wrist before standing, pulling the other man with him. He’s not as well equipped tonight as he could be, but it doesn’t matter. There are other ways to do what needs to be done, and he’s done enough research to know how to do them. There’s a part of him that hopes that Reid would be jealous of his knowledge on this particular subject, but then, if he ever brought it up, it would only lead to things he would rather not discuss, things he knows Aaron would never _want_ discussed.

Aaron doesn’t struggle as Dave guides him out of the bathroom and across the hall into his bedroom, he’s more passive than Dave can ever remember him being, and that, more than anything else, speaks to how badly the other man needs this. As well as how much he still trusts Dave, though Dave still wonders just what he did to earn the other man’s trust so wholly.

There’s just the two of them in the apartment, which isn’t a surprise. Aaron would never have considered using the knife when Jack might catch him, when his son might need him. Dave sends a silent prayer of thanks for Jessica Brooks, he honestly doesn’t want to think about what would happen if Aaron didn’t have her to help with Jack. It’s a relief as well, not to have to think of a way to do this without disturbing Jack. Dave doesn’t particularly care what Aaron’s neighbours think.

Dave pushes the door open, and hesitates for a moment, taking in the unmade bed and the scattered clothing. He should have come sooner, to hell with what Aaron wanted.

He lets go of Aaron’s wrist, leaving the other man in the doorway for a moment while he sorts out the bed, straightening the sheets out and positioning the pillows. Under different circumstances he would have changed the sheets, but as they’re only going to get dirtier with what he has planned he leaves them be.

He quick search through Aaron’s cupboard turns up two extra pillows which he adds to the ones already on the bed before turning his attention back to Aaron, who hasn’t moved.

Dave growls impatiently, pushing Aaron towards the bed and getting him to lie down in just the right position. It doesn’t feel right, to be doing this without any real input from the other man, but it will just have to do. He knows what Aaron needs, and he knows that if he doesn’t get it now, things will only get worse.

He knows the signs all too well.

It doesn’t take him long to strip Aaron of his boxers, he leaves the t-shirt, that’s a battle he’ll fight another day, and he makes sure that Aaron’s comfortable. He’d been expecting him to tense as he’d turning him over to lie on his stomach, but instead he seems less tense than he’d been when on his back. It makes sense though, Dave’s seen the pictures of Foyet’s wounds, knows the basics of Aaron’s chart as well as the crime scene report, enough to know that Foyet had left him lying on his back during the attack.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of Aaron, laid out on the bed, legs bare, and his breath catches. It’s been too long since he last saw the other man like this.

-

He swallows back his first urge, reminding himself that he’s here for Aaron. As much as he might badly want to do some things, he doubts that they would go down well just now. He can work his way up to it, for now he just needs to focus on giving Aaron what he needs.

Dave kneels on the bed alongside Aaron, taking his time and making sure he’s in the best position, before reaching out and placing a hand on the back of Aaron’s thigh. It’s all the warning he gives before pulling back and bringing his hand down hard on the same spot. He doesn’t wait between blows, striking each spot twice before moving down Aaron’s right thigh, then across and up his left.

His hands are sore by the time he finishes, landing one last slap to Aaron’s left buttock before pulling back to catch his breath. Aaron’s breathing hard, shaking just a little, his eyes squeezed shut, but he’s loose. Dave smiles, leaning forward carefully to press his lips against the hot skin of Aaron’s right buttock.

Aaron sighs, squirming a little before turning his head and opening his eyes. His expression is a little glazed, his cheeks flushed, and Dave can’t help but smile, knowing that it’s the one that has always been described as his ‘shit eating grin’.

“You okay there?” He knows the answer, but he wants to hear Aaron’s voice, wants confirmation, just in case.

“Mmm,” Aaron hums, shifting a little and reaching out with one hand to tug on Dave’s jeans, quirking an eyebrow.

Dave rolls his eyes, but shifts back off the bed, stripping off his jeans and shirt. He leaves his boxers and undershirt on. “Better?”

Aaron smiles, and it’s a lazier, easier smile than Dave’s seen in a while, but he knows it more because of the pain than anything else. Nothing loosens Aaron up like a good spanking.

Dave nudges him as he sits back down on the edge of the bed, “Verbal answers are preferred.”

Aaron sighs, shifting again, the smile fading a little, “Better.”

Dave gives him a hard pat on the ass, “Good.”

Aaron huffs a laugh, shifting onto his side a little to look at Dave properly. “You didn’t have to stop.”

Dave reaches out and slaps Aaron across the back of his right knee, on the very edge of the reddened skin, watching as Aaron flinches, biting his lip, before sighing, “I needed a break.” He’s not the only one, but he knows Aaron well enough to know that he would argue the point.

He moves, considering his next move, before standing and rounding the bed to sit on Aaron’s other side, reaching out to touch the small of Aaron’s back, waiting for a reaction. Aaron tenses, just a little, at the touch before relaxing and Dave sits back considering for a moment before standing. It doesn’t take him long to find a familiar belt in Aaron’s sock drawer, his thumb rubbing across the notch next to the buckle idly as he wanders back other to bed.

He can feel Aaron watching him, but he doesn’t look up as he toys with the belt for a moment before striking out with it, hitting Aaron across the back of his shoulders. Aaron flinches, and then sighs, his muscles relaxing as he buries his face into a pillow.

Dave smiles, Aaron’s t-shirt gives just enough padding that he can use the belt and not have to worry too much about breaking the skin. He knows just how much force to use, he’s had enough practice.

He repeats the same process as he had on Aaron’s legs, striking each spot twice before moving on, knowing that he’s leaving strips down Aaron’s back in his wake. He wishes he could ask to see them, to see the bare skin of Aaron’s back as it colours, but he’ll just have to imagine it.

He discards the belt once he reaches the small of Aaron’s back, dropping it to the floor before kneeling beside him on the bed once more. He doesn’t do the thing he so badly wants to, doesn’t reach under Aaron to circle the other man’s cock with his hand and drive him to completion, he can’t. Instead he repeats his serious of slaps to the backs of Aaron’s legs, pausing to scrape his teeth across each section after each slap, savouring the whimpering it draws from Aaron.

-

He’s half way down Aaron’s left leg when Aaron jerks, shuddering under his hands, and Dave smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to Aaron’s thigh. He pulls back once Aaron’s shuddering has subsided, landing the last few slaps to Aaron’s legs in quick succession before moving to lie down on the bed beside him, breathing heavily.

Aaron manages to smile at him, somewhat hazily, reaching out with one hand to rub Dave’s hip. Dave grunts, shifting away. “Dave?” Aaron rolls over, smearing come across one hip, frowning.

Dave sighs, leaning forward to kiss Aaron on the lips, silencing any further protests.

Aaron squirms a little, reaching out to catch Dave by the back neck and pull him in closer, deepening the kiss. They break apart finally when they run out of air, gasping like a pair of teenagers and Dave can’t help but trail kisses down the side of Aaron’s neck, only to pull back as Aaron tenses.

Dave bites back an apology, choosing instead to press another kiss to Aaron’s swollen lips, ignoring the soft noise of protest, before settling back down onto the bed, shifting around a little to get comfortable. He smiles at Aaron as the other man scowls at him drowsily, obviously losing the battle against sleep.

Even when he isn’t exhausted, Aaron has always been liable to fall asleep after sex, though he doesn’t always sleep long and he has always made up for it once he’s awake again, so Dave has never minded. If he’s honest he has always found it endearing, and he loves nothing more to than to watch the other man drift off into a peaceful sleep knowing that he’s responsible.

Dave smiles at Aaron, stealing one last kiss, “Go to sleep.”

Aaron huffs, and Dave knows that, come morning, Aaron is going to try and make it up to him, despite the fact he doesn’t need to. Dave’ll humour him, let him make him breakfast before they head into work in separate cars.

In all honestly, Dave has gotten everything out of this he wants. He knows that tomorrow, every time Aaron flinches, or hesitates before he sits down, the other man will think of him. And he knows that that knowledge will wind him up making more trips to the bathroom than he normally would.

As he lies in the bed, next to an exhausted, but sated, Aaron, Dave can’t help but think of the box that’s hidden away in one of his cupboards. The front of the box is marked in permanent marker with the words’ fishing gear’, words that would always put his wives off, and he thinks maybe he should open it again. There are a few things in there that haven’t been used in a while, that might just get a lot of use in the future.


End file.
